AFTER THE WAR

By L C McCahon

Part 3

It was probably true that once upon a time they all found snails tasted not-very-good; but now, when the hens couldn’t be relied on to lay regularly, the snails were often the only protein source they might have for days, and consequently they now found them delicious. As half the hen and duck flock had been slaughtered by wild dogs some months ago, they not only had fewer egg-layers but the survivors seemed to be a long time getting over their trauma.

Each fowl still wasn’t producing as many eggs as previously, which grieved Janice. Also, it meant there might not be enough to make cakes with violets on, which grieved Maurice. They decided not to tell Sandy this, and especially not to tell her that the only part of a violet plant that was truly edible was the flower, making violets a rather uneconomic crop for subsistence purposes.

Meanwhile, the days ticked by, or they would have if they’d had a clock, which they didn’t. And late summer was upon them, and the days grew slightly shorter. John kept an eye on the fish in the stream, Janice kept an eye on the chickens and ducks, Sandy kept an eye on any creature that might be edible, and Maurice kept a steady, obsessive eye on everything in the greenhouse, and everything growing outside that would eventually need to come in to the greenhouse for winter.

Sandy found white butterfly caterpillars feasting on the cabbages one morning and grew positively wild with rage, grabbing them of the leaves and dumping them in a bucket of water to drown them. She then mashed them up and baked them in bread, getting everyone to eat it before telling them what was in it.

Sandy was extremely possessive of their food sources, and resented even insects trying to have a go at the things that ensured her own existence. She loved to turn the tables on pests by turning the bugs into food for humans. Her vengeance was positively gleeful.

When Janice heard howling once more in the distance one evening, she knew they were likely to have a winter of struggle. If the dog pack set up camp nearby, they would be fending them off for months in between snow storms. And if all the fowls died, there were none to replace them.

That became temporarily overshadowed by a more immediate disaster when Sandy found out by reading a book that violet flowers were used as edible decoration on cakes. She came storming out to the bean plot where Janice was weeding, yelling at the top of her voice.

“Only the flowers are edible! The only freaking part of a violet plant that is edible is the flower! Your useless brother has used the tea set for useless plants! We’re giving up the tea set for months just for a flower crop!”

Of course all her yelling and raging did no good. When she confronted Maurice like this, he only retreated further from communication, and Janice could see him become more determined to keep the violets where they were. No amount of calm words from John helped, and the daily tea ritual became strained and uncommunicative.

About a week later, when Janice, Sandy and John were all sitting on the steps shelling peas, there was a cry of rage from the greenhouse. Maurice came running to them, with a look like thunder.

“Who repotted the violets?” He shouted. “Who?” Of course he looked only at Sandy.

“I did,” Sandy replied, “I swapped them over from the tea set into the cans. I did it properly, and gently, with the right soil and watered them and they should be fine.” She sniffed.

“What if they aren’t fine? What if they die?” yelled Maurice.

“They won’t, or only a few will, surely. Anyway they’re not very edible so they can’t be a priority.”

“They’re the only violets around! There aren’t any in the Wasteland around the farm! They could be the last violets in the country! In the world! We have to protect them!” Maurice was getting a worrying red colour.

“And we have to eat!” Sandy snapped back. “And while decorative plants are a lovely remainder of the Old World, the tea set is more reliable and useful!”

“You intruded on my work! You messed around where you had no right!”

“I thought the four of us shared everything now? That’s what I’m so often told around here!”

“But you don’t understand violets! I leave your snails alone, you leave my violets alone! You know you don’t understand all the greenhouse plants!”

“Well what if you taught me, Maurice!”

“I can’t! The plants don’t like you Sandy! You’re just not a plant person!”

Sandy stood. “So what, the plants talk to you now?”

“Yes! And they don’t like you because you are aggressive!”

“Go back to your greenhouse you deluded old fool! We don’t need a crazy person getting in the way! Am I supposed to feed a nutcase? What do you do to justify your existence?”

“I’m kind to plants! And I’m not crazy!” Maurice stormed back into the greenhouse and slammed the door. Janice could see him pacing around the back.

Oh dear! Will the violets survive being repotted? Will Maurice and Sandy ever speak to other again? Stay tuned...